


A Bruised Ego

by eli99alien



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, There's A Tag For That, just good ol' Roman angst, that's it man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 12:05:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15729069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eli99alien/pseuds/eli99alien
Summary: “I didn’t really plan on any heavy character development…”Roman is feeling unordinarily out of it and reaches out to Virgil for some help — honestly though, is it really that unordinary?





	A Bruised Ego

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to avoid any speculation about what Roman’s room might look like since there’s no canon evidence of it yet so sorry for the lack of detail there, but I’d rather not include my own opinions about the universe in a fic, so until the rooms are revealed I won’t be going into much detail about them.

Ever since the whole “Accepting Anxiety” fiasco, the other sides dropped by Virgil’s room much more often, though typically not for long. They would pop in, whether to give him something or take something back that he’d borrowed, or just to generally pester him, and then pop right back out. None of them could handle the intensity of the room for longer than just a few moments. It got hard for even Virgil to handle it sometimes. He didn’t mind too much when the others stopped by though, it gave him something to do, and urged him out to socialize with them much more than he used to.

The only thing he did mind was Roman’s visits. The creative side would stop by mostly to pester or ask for things; simply to be a nuisance. So it was no surprise that Virgil immediately tensed when he heard someone rise up in his room, already preparing possible comebacks to insults and nicknames. Even though Roman didn’t do those things as often as he did in the past, Virgil was still accustomed to it and found it hard not to grow defensive whenever the other side spoke to him.

What was surprising, though, was the look on Roman’s face when Virgil removed his headphones and turned to address the other side, annoyance already showing in his sneer. Virgil was taken aback, his sour expression vanished, eyes going wide, and he had to grip the railing of the stairs beside him.

The prince was a disaster. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, and if it weren’t for the tears streaking his cheeks Virgil might have accused him of smoking something he shouldn’t have. Once the shock at what stood before him wore off, Virgil pulled down his hood and ran a few fingers through his hair, getting his bearings. Roman had yet to speak; his eyes were trained on the floor between them, his breath occasionally hitching in a way that Virgil knew too well. He’d been crying for some time now, it seemed, and though he still held composure in his shoulders, it looked too forced.

Since Roman still hadn’t said a word and Virgil was thoroughly confused (and, honestly, a little scared), the darker side decided to speak up.

“Roman?” His voice was soft, but it got the creative side to look up, meet his eyes. “Are you okay?” Virgil had been asked the same question himself by the other sides so many countless times, and most of the time he’d answered with a sarcastic response or lied and said something more positive than the reality was. He just hoped that Roman wouldn’t give in to deception like he himself so often did (though he was learning not to) and instead tell Virgil the truth.

Virgil’s hopes were met, though he immediately felt terrible for hoping. Roman’s shoulders dropped, no more composure, all life seemed to drain out of him as he shook his head; slowly at first, though it quickly grew aggressive and insistent. The tears fell harder and faster, and quiet, choked sobs tore themselves from the prince. It was the most heart-wrenching thing Virgil had seen in a long, long time—someone who usually held himself in such high regard, someone who was always composed and ready to fire back at anyone who questioned him, now reduced to this.

Before Virgil could think, he pulled the prince close to him, wrapping his arms around him (tight, but not too tight, exactly how Patton hugged Virgil). Roman buried his face into Virgil’s shoulder and immediately returned the embrace, though his arms felt weak around Virgil.

“I know,” Virgil sighed, one hand moving (hopefully not awkwardly) up and down the other’s back, comforting him the only way he could think how. “I know.” And he did, he did know, he knew exactly what this was about. It was no secret that most of Roman’s obnoxious confidence was a front. Thomas had openly talked about his own struggles with confidence and self-image several times before, so it wasn’t like everyone expected him to be this perfect, arrogant, knight in shining armor all the time. So the same couldn’t be expected for Roman.

They stayed like that for a while, Virgil let Roman cry it out in silence, ignoring the growing soreness in his arms the longer they held each other like this. Eventually, though, even as Roman’s sobbing subsided, Virgil could feel his limbs trembling and his breathing growing quicker.

Right. The room. Sure enough, when Virgil pulled back from the hug, he saw dark smudges almost matching his own underneath the prince’s eyes, which were wide and full of growing fear.

“Hey, hey,” Virgil whispered, taking the prince’s face in his hands, staring into those big eyes. “In for four seconds, hold it for seven, out for eight, remember?” Roman nodded and followed the instructions, closing his eyes and visibly trying his best to calm himself. “Good, just like that. You can’t be in here for this long, especially not when you’re upset. Sink out, get some rest in your room, alright?”

Roman’s eyes shot back open and he stopped the breathing exercise for a moment as he gripped Virgil’s wrist and looked in his eyes again. “Come with me,” he said, softly, his first spoken words since he rose up. Virgil sighed, but nodded. He took Roman’s hand and the prince continued the rhythmic breathing while Virgil closed his eyes, until the aura that came with the anxiety room faded. Virgil opened his eyes to see himself and Roman in the creative side’s room, the dark eyeshadow gone from Roman’s eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed Roman’s hand. Roman opened one eye, then the other, his grip on Virgil relaxing.

“Thank you,” Roman said, his eyes set on the ground once again, his thumb lightly grazing over the back of Virgil’s hand. Virgil cleared his throat and adjusted his weight, flush on his cheeks as he mumbled a “No problem.”

“Please don’t tell the others.”

The request shocked Virgil, though he thought maybe it shouldn’t have, and he stayed silent for a few moments before nodding in agreement. It wasn’t his place to decide when or where Patton and Logan or even Thomas would be aware of the mess that Roman can be on occasion. If Roman didn’t want them to know, then they wouldn’t know, until he told them himself or they figured it out. There was just one question Virgil still had.

“Why did you come to me?” Roman looked unsure, pursing his lips and avoiding Virgil’s gaze.

“I don’t know. Just… Felt right, I guess,” he said, breath shaking. “Patton would just try to cheer me up, Logan wouldn’t… Understand. I just needed someone to-… to—”

“To be there,” Virgil finished, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I get it.”

Roman nodded, and they fell into a mutual silence again.

Virgil realized that he was still holding onto Roman’s hand and cleared his throat as he let go, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You should get some rest,” he repeated himself, and Roman nodded in agreement.

“You should too, when was the last time you got a good night’s sleep, in that gloom room of yours? Stay here.”

Virgil couldn’t help but smile, lifting a hand to cover it and averting his gaze; an unconscious habit. He wasn’t used to being treated like this (especially not by Roman) yet, but it was a nice change, for sure.

“Alright. I’ll stay. But I want the Dragon Witch plush.”

“Deal.”


End file.
